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by ZephyrOfAllTrades



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale and Crowley's first time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, No Beta, Pillow Talk, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Smut, the cakes were forgotten, too excited to post, yeah you heard me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23968087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades
Summary: 'Hold on,' he thought as he levered himself into a sitting position and gazed at the dark shiny screen of his phone by his pillow. 'I set an alarm for July.' He grinned then bolted to take a quick shower and rummaged around his wardrobe to find the right outfit.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 151
Collections: Good Omens Lockdown fics





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**Author's Note:**

> I know a lot of people are sad about the ending but I'm sure Crowley wanted to be good to appease his angel. He was just sulking that's why he turned June to July. So, here's my offering. Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> It may be a little late, but I'm still working my smut writing. :D
> 
> Grammar and spelling mistakes are all mine. Tea doesn't help in that aspect of writing but it sure kept me up at night, enough to finish this.

A shrill beeping was filling the dark flat. Crowley groaned as he searched the folds of his blankets for the damned phone. Swiping the screen to close the alarm, he stretched, savoring the feel of silk on silk. A quick glance out the window told him it was still early morning, barely even sunrise. To him that was the best time to wake up. Not because he was itching to get out of bed to work, but because it was this time of the day that people were waking up to get ready to start their miserable lives, while he could stay in bed until 10 o’clock and gloat about it in the nearby coffee shops where most of the working class had just taken their breaks.

He burrowed further into the warm cocoon of his bed, but didn’t go back to sleep, the usual sense of satisfaction he got wasn’t there. He was feeling a little moody but can’t remember why. He let consciousness seep back into his waking mind, and it gave him his last thoughts before he fell asleep.

Aziraphale.

Of course, it was the angel. When was the last time he slept _without_ thinking of the blonde? They have wined and dine the months after the failed Armageddon but only sought each other out once or twice every fortnight. It was enough space to do their own things, even though he wished they spent each day together. But he was stumped at how to bring the topic up.

Now he understood why he felt deflated. He’d been pretty behaved the last couple of weeks before his self-induce two-month coma. He could have messed with the Wifi in the neighborhood or got Youtube’s system failing again, but he didn’t. Even amped up the internet connection speed once or twice. The lack of mischief-making was sending him to madness.

He felt hope, and the other mushy feeling, when the angel called him last May. Although it sounded like the customary telling off of his ‘wiles’ – honestly though, the humans didn’t need _him_ to risk their lives and others’ by acting stupid, rallying for bloody haircuts, honestly! – it sounded more like he wanted an excuse to talk to him. He even tempted him with cake, or rather the opportunity to watch him eat cake. But, nooooooooo! The angel didn’t want to spend lockdown with him. He even offered to bring a case of something drinkable.

“Two months,” he groaned out loud. He had to keep away from him for two mon-

_Hold on_ , he thought as he levered himself into a sitting position and gazed at the dark shiny screen of his phone by his pillow. _I set an alarm for July_. He grinned then bolted to take a quick shower and rummaged around his wardrobe to find the right outfit. He was too excited to miracle himself clean and put his clothes on. He made that mistake once and rained glitter on himself.

It was too early, yes, but the angel didn’t sleep. He’ll be puttering about in his shop. Or baking, as was his newest hobby. Besides, he could just say that he wanted to get first hand account on the happenings in London that he had slept through. If Aziraphale got suspicious, a simple invitation for some ‘scrummy’ breakfast would distract him.

He pocketed his phone and zoomed out his flat and into the Bentley. The streets were empty. But he wasn’t surprised. It always happened when he was especially eager to reach his angel.

He parked in his usual spot in front of the shop and miracled the locks open. The bell above the door sounded as cheerful as he was.

“Angel! You there?” he called, unable to remove the huge smile pasted on his face.

“Crowley? Is that you?” Aziraphale replied, sliding out from behind the bookshelf closest to the backroom. He was wearing his usual tan trousers, white shirt, waistcoat and bowtie. But he had an apron hanging loosely from one hand. The angel gave him a surprised yet beaming smile, and oh, how Crowley missed him. “Goodness, it’s wonderful to see you my dear, but weren’t we supposed to meet up at a later date?”

The demon shrugged. “Had enough sleep and thought it was high time I interrupt your, er, whatever it is you’re doing, and maybe saunter off to a café for breakfast.”

“Really, my dear,” he rolled his eyes at him. “That’s not necessary. I didn’t think you’d forget easily but I still have enough cake and pastries to get us by,” he ushered him further into the back of the shop, heading for the ugly, yet sinfully comfortable couch. “Make yourself at home and I’ll bring you some coffee.”

Crowley sighed. He sprawled himself over the couch as he waited for the angel to return. He saw the mounds of breads, cakes and assorted pasties spread about the shop taking over as much space on the tables as much as books. He’d have thought the angel would have tired of the whole baking thing after a month.

He took in a deep breath. The smell of freshly baked goods and old books was intoxicating. The familiar warmth and scents wrapping around him. It was probably the closest thing to a hug he’d get from the angel but he’d take what he could get.

“Here you are my dear,” came Aziraphale’s voice, pulling him out of his trance. He handed him a mug of black coffee. He needed the caffeine now that the exhilaration he felt when rushing over to see the angel was trickling out his system. It was being replaced by the usual contentment and bubbly feeling of happiness he got just by sharing the same room with the blonde.

“Thanks, angel. Smells great.” He watched as Aziraphale plated slices of budnt cake for him to try, noting the faint scent of rum on it, then lowered himself unto his favorite armchair with a cup of tea. “Still stocking up on nibbles then?”

“You can’t expect me to eat the lot in less than eight hours, Crowley. It was one of the reasons I gave some to those hooligans I told you about. Can’t have them go to waste, no matter how much I like them” the angel waved his cake fork at him.

Crowley blinked. “Uhhh… eight hours?”

“Yes, since I last called,” Aziraphale replied, dabbing his lips daintily with a napkin. “Which was last night,” one eyebrow raised in inquiry.

“So….” the demon said slowly. “We’re supposed to still be under lockdown?”

“Yes, dear boy. What day did you think it is?”

“First of July?” the demon answered sheepishly. He fished out his phone to investigate the cock up and there it was – he forgot to turn off his regular alarms. They made sure his phone went off every weekday. He hadn’t bothered looking at the screen display that morning and was too wrapped up in his sulking fit to open it again to check. He removed his sunglasses to give himself an epic facepalm.

“Oh dear,” the angel chuckled. “Doesn’t matter. You’re here now. You’d be less bored if you have someone to talk to.”

“Aren’t you mad I broke the rules, though?” the demon probed, setting himself up for self-sabotage but unable to stop himself. “After all your dithering last night, now that I know that it was last night, shouldn’t you have sent me back home the moment I came in?”

“Completely unnecessary action, I believe, as I would then have you back out into the streets where you weren’t supposed to be. Which means, you are to stay here for the remainder of this pandemic,” he answered using his holier-than-thou voice, but it didn’t annoy Crowley as usual as the angel ended it with a playful smile. And who was he kidding? He wanted to be there.

“Clever of you, trapping a demon,” he drawled, finally taking a sip of his cooling coffee. “Better make the best of out of this quarantine thing, then. What distractions did you have in mind for us? Besides feeding me cake.”

“Feed _me_ instead?” Aziraphale said distractedly. Crowley knew it was a passing thought, the angel meant nothing by it! But the image the comment painted in his decidedly unangelic mind had him choking on his very first bite of cake.

“Are you alright?” the angel ran over to take the plate from him and pushed a miracle tumbler of water in its place. The demon chugged the liquid down even after he’s recovered from the coughing fit. He was there barely an hour and he was already making a fool of himself.

“Yeah, uhm, tickety-boo, and all that,” he breathed, closing his eyes. He opened them a moment later in surprise as he felt a hand land softly on his cheek. The angel had planted himself on his knees in between his legs focused on wiping away water that ran down his chin and neck.

“Please be a little more careful, my dea-“ Aziraphale finally looked up to find himself staring into captivating snake eyes. His hands slid from the demon’s cheek and settled at the lapels of his jacket. He watched the yellow of Crowley’s eyes take over the whites, black slits widening. The emotions he saw in them were equal parts scared and full of anticipation.

“Aziraphale,” the Crowley whispered, tilting his head down slowly. He found himself tipping his head up in response. His gazed flicked to the red-head’s lips, looking soft, pink and inviting. He couldn’t help but close his eyes as their noses touched. He could almost taste the coffee he knew coated the inside of the demon’s mouth. His breath ghosted over his cheeks, mingling with his stuttering own.

Just as their lips met a gong sounded in the distance. It startled both of them.

“What the fucking hell was that?” the demon yelled.

“Oh, my!” cried Aziraphale standing up hurriedly. “My lemon bars!”

Crowley watched him disappear into a narrow staircase that led to the flat above. He followed at a sedate pace, the last few minutes on a loop in his head. He was unsure if it had happened. His brain wasn’t helping. He needed the angel to tell him if they did kiss, and it wasn’t just his overactive imagination. And if it wasn’t a hallucination, he would be damned _again_ if he wasn’t going to try and take another swipe at those luscious lips.

He stopped at the little kitchenette catching the angel taking out a pan from the oven. He gingerly laid it on a rack before turning the oven off. Another gong filled the room and the both had to flinch. Aziraphale grabbed at a kitchen timer to turn the alarm off before turning to look at the demon with a shy smile.

“Needed something louder just in case I lost myself in a book,” he explained. “Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, uh. No, that’s, er, good,” the demon stuttered. He was leaning against the counter, still feeling unbalanced. “Nothing burned then?”

“Oh, none. Made it just in time.” Crowley followed his gaze shift from his eyes to the floor, then flittingly to his lips before turning completely away from him. He watched the angel touch his lips, pink dusting the top of his cheeks. He licked his own and his feet took him a step closer.

“Have you any more things cooking, angel?” he asked quietly. The angel still jumped but recovered himself quickly.

“None that I could remember,” he turned around to check. He took quick strides to close their distance and by the time the angel finished his search, their bodies were but a hand’s breadth apart.

“No more interruptions, then?” he said lowly. Aziraphale’s lips quirked at the corners, his own mirroring them. They stared at each other until they sported identical grins.

“I believe I’ve baked my last cake for the time being,” the blonde started, taking the final half step to bring their fronts flushed together. “And I’m rather at a loss as to how else to occupy my time.”

It took Crowley a whole five seconds to wring out a reply. “I know what we could do,” he tried going for cool and seductive but it came out as needy and desperate. Whatever he wanted to say next got lost in his throat as he felt a soft hand trailing a line from hid abdomen up towards the opening of his shirt. It stopped there, the pad of one finger the only skin on skin contact.

Without his permission, his hands landed on the angel’s plush waist, and was inching down towards his arse. His fingers twitched as they fell below his waistband. But he stilled them. Hell knows if he was allowed. He didn’t want to go too fast again.

Reading his thoughts, Aziraphale reached up to give him a kiss as he guided the demon’s arm to reach down. Crowley growled and nipped at the angel’s lower lip, asking for entry. The blonde parted his lips, tongue darting out eagerly to meet his lover’s own.

Aziraphale finally drank in the coffee taste he’d been looking forward to only a few minutes and Crowley was drinking in his honeyed flavor of black tea, vanilla and a touch of lemon from his last creation. He was thankful they didn’t need to breath but the angel broke their kiss. He whined and held on tighter to the soft mounds of flesh cradled in his palms.

The angel gasped and buried his head in the demon’s neck, purring as the red-head kept kneading his behind. He felt Crowley’s cock, rock hard constrained in his tight denim pants, his own erection responding as his body was pulled in closer to the others. The friction between them felt good but he needed more. He peppered shy kisses under his jaw before panting in his ear, “Dearest, please…” He keened as the demon gave rolled his hips against him.

“Ah… yes… oh, darling,” he moaned. It felt deliriously good, but again, he wanted more. “Crowley, stop, please!” he called out and the demon stilled instantly. He didn’t wait for a reply, taking advantage of the momentary lull to put space between them but not enough to dislodge the red-head’s hands from their current position.

“My dear,” he said in between pecks to lips and cheek, preventing the demon’s anxiety from growing. It dissolved further into nothingness when the angel whispered, “I do have a perfectly serviceable bed for us to use.”

They moved to the bedroom and danced around the piles of books littered about the room. Thankfully, the mattress only sported blankets and pillows. No harm would befall his tomes. They toed of shoes and socks and started removing layers of clothing from each other. It was a mess of hands, lips and legs but somehow, they managed.

Crowley pushed his angel down into the pillows, one hand splayed against his chest, the other caressing his stomach and sides. Aziraphale squirmed from the attention and the touch, he wasn’t used to the attention. He watched the demon’s eyes rake over his body, dark and wanting but also full of adoration. Another moan escaped his mouth and his prick twitched as the demon’s gaze lingered on it.

Crowley gave the weeping member a gentle stroke, making the angel sing. He wanted nothing more than to drown in those sounds. He wanted the angel hoarse and voiceless by the end of their tryst. He did the action two more times before Aziraphale grabbed his hair and pulled him for a messy kiss. The change in position led his cock to brush against the other’s. They both cried out as heat raced down their spines. Crowley’s hand abandoned its previous occupation in favor of rutting feverishly at the other’s crotch.

“My love,” Aziraphale crowed, the endearment threatening to undo all of Crowley’s self-control. He wanted to see the angel through first before he let himself go. “Please, I’m close… oh…you feel so good… I – I want to come while you’re inside me,” he begged.

Not trusting his voice, Crowley forced his hips to lift. The sudden cold patch between their legs had them growling. He slithered down in between his legs and lined his face closer to the angel’s expectant hole. He made sure to avoid the Aziraphale’s cock but couldn’t help but admire the glistening drops of precum oozing at the tip. He was tempted to lick it off but the angel wanted to feel him in his tight depths and what the angel wants, he was sure to give.

He lapped at the ring of muscles, slowly teasing it open. He let his tongue work its magic as his ears fed itself with the angel’s gasps, sighs and moans. He miracle his hands slick and the angel cried out as the first finger breached his entrance. He kept a sedate pace, focusing on opening him up and giving him enough time to acclimatize to the sensation. He kept his thrusting measured. He didn’t want to hit his prostate early on and ruin the moment they’ve been working towards. A second, then third followed. The demon’s cock bobbed along to his fingers fucking the tight angelic hole.

“I’m ready, dear, please put it in,” Aziraphale gasped out, knuckles white as he gripped the sheets beside him. Eager to please, he slid his fingers out carefully and slicked his cock quickly. He gritted his teeth to keep himself together. He lined the head and pushed slowly. He whimpered at the sight and had to stop halfway, shuddering at pleasurable pressure choking his prick.

The angel urged him on, voice sounding as wrecked as he felt. He took a few deep breaths and pushed the last few inches in. He leaned forwards to steal another kiss, his thirst only sated through the angel’s mouth. The movement made him push in deeper and had him groaning.

“C-can I move?” he choke out. It was raspy from lust. He was nearly overwhelmed, but his angel would come first. He was going to make sure the angel _come_ first. The response he got was a jerky nod and Aziraphale’s legs locking him down.

Each thrust had the angel wailing as it found its mark, impeccably manicured nails digging into the demon’s back and his scalp. It didn’t take him long to see fireworks behind his eyes, he felt his spend painting his chest and stomach. He felt Crowley’s own release before he was done with his. Warmth was filling and overflowing his arsehole (literally) and heart (figuratively).

Crowley arched his back as he rode his orgasm to its end. He barely made it. But he couldn’t dwell on the fact as his ears were still ringing from the angel’s repetitive chanting of his name as the walls that held his cock tightened. His prick had been milked thoroughly. He’d never felt so exhausted and so blissed out in his entire existence.

He pulled out slowly from the angel’s hole, marveling at the sight of his come dripping from the still pulsing rim. He felt his arms give and flopped himself beside the panting blonde.

He grinned at the angel, pleased with how things had gone. “If I had known this was where we’d end up, I’d have transported myself through the phone lines last night.”

Aziraphale gave him a weak chuckle. “Dearest, if I knew you were willing, I’d have locked myself with you months before or centuries before if I’m completely honest,” he croaked.

Crowley smirked, stretching his limbs with a sigh. “I’d have had you in Eden if you gave me a sign,” he said fondly, but dripping in honesty. “But we have time to make for that I’m sure,” he continued excitedly making the blonde giggle. “But aren’t you worried we’d disturb the neighbours? You’ve been _very_ loud, angel.” His sounded too gleeful to make the statement sound reproving.

The angel wriggled in his place, “They can’t hear us, my dear. I had to miracle the walls soundproof so as not to alarm them with my kitchen timer.”

“Does that mean I can make you scream louder?” he sat up, mind already racing with the possibilities.

“You can try,” the angel snorted. A flick of his fingers had them both clean and under the covers. They snuggled close together, unwilling to break their contact. “But there’s no rush, I’m perfectly amenable to cuddles.”

Crowley kissed the top of his angel’s head, feeling sluggish and sleepy and content. “I love you, Aziraphale,” he breathed into the white-blonde curls, mussed and bright in the late morning sunlight that snuck pass the bedroom drapes. “And there’s no one I’d rather spend my time with, lockdown or not.”

“And I, you, my darling, dearest, demon,” the angel hummed, looking up at the snake eyes turned molten gold. He was certain he had the same affectionate glances as Crowley wore and he cherished the thought as they drifted off into dreamless nothingness.

What the next day offers, they shall meet together.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sucker for fluff.
> 
> Thanks y'all for reading!


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